


A Family of Secrets

by Eudoxia



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Adorable Ori, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Bearded Dwarf Women, Dwarf Courting, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarf Gender Concepts, F/F, F/M, Female Dori, Female Nori (Tolkien), Female Ori, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Hobbit Courting, Hobbit Culture, I don't know how else to tag this, M/M, Mother Hen Dori, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Pregnancy, Rule 63, Secret Gender, Stubborn Dwarves, Unplanned Pregnancy, suggestions?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2053644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eudoxia/pseuds/Eudoxia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dori will do anything to protect her sisters. Even dress them up as dwarrow.</p><p>Or, the story of how the Brothers Ri are really the Sisters Ri. (And their ups, downs, and courting while not telling their intended they are females. Also, a dragon.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd. Feel free to let me know if anything needs fixing.

Dori stood in the middle of the field, her eyes watching the embers as they floated into the wind. It was a funeral pyre. It was her mother’s. The old Dwarrowdam had passed the week before due to “hazardous work conditions.” Which was what Dori would continue to tell her sisters for as long as they would believe it and then even after they started to doubt it. No one was going to ever say otherwise in front of her and _not_ get their nose broken. No one would call her mother a whore ever again. Even if it had been the truth.

 

Dori’s jaw clenched. The little hand in her left one gave a gentle tug.

 

“Dori?”

 

Dori looked down at her littlest sister. Ori was only twenty-three, just a child, but she had their mother’s flaming red hair. It hurt to look at sometimes. Especially now. But it would get easier. And if it didn’t, Dori had enough brute strength to make it get easier. She had two little charges to look after now.

 

“What is it, namadith?” Dori asked, giving Ori’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

 

“Mama is with her brothers now, right?”

 

Their mother had been the only girl of four children and the only one to live past her coming of age at seventy. She had been the eldest and while she had loved all her brothers, she also had the sorrow of watching two succumb to illness and the last be taken when the drake had attacked Erebor.

 

“Yes, she is with her little brothers now. Doting on them as she has doted on us.”

 

“Why?”

 

And that, perhaps, was the hardest question. She couldn’t exactly say ‘because some arsehole beat the shit out of her’ (which was the truth) but she didn’t believe that saying ‘it was her time’ was honest enough for her sisters. Dori felt that their mother had decades left and that those decades were stolen from her. And from them. By some arsehole that had yet to be found. The knowledge burned hot and hard in Dori’s chest.

 

“Because life is mean,” a voice answered to the right.

 

Dori turned and looked at her other sister, Nori. The middle sister looked haggard and world warn, aged beyond her fifty-six years. Her strawberry blond hair hung limply around her face and there was a new tightness to her eyes.

 

A little voice warbled, “Really?” and Dori would have hit Nori if Ori wasn’t on the verge of tears.

 

“No. No, not at all, Ori,” Dori crouched down to take her littlest sister by the shoulders, turning her away from the pyre. “Life is hard and unfair but it didn’t take Mama for those reasons. Life didn’t take Mama from us at all. The mean men that attacked her took her from us.” She reached up and took a few strands of Ori’s red hair, giving them a gentle tug. Dori tried to smile but she knew it turned out more pained than anything.

 

“Why? Why did they do that?” Ori’s little hands wrapped around the braids that hung from Dori’s temples, clacking the beads together in a nervous gesture, “Why did they take Mama from us?”

 

“Because they are men and we are not,” Nori cut in, standing next to Dori. “They think themselves stronger and smarter than us, just because they are bigger. But they are wrong. They are wrong because while we are not men we are Dwarrow and Dwarrowdams at that. And that makes us stronger and smarter than all of them. And do you know why?”

 

Ori shook her head and Dori stayed silent simply to see where Nori was going with her little rant.

 

Nori pulled a lock of Ori’s hair into her own fist and twirled a finger around it. “We are stronger because we are _rare_. Like diamonds or mithril. There are few Dwarrowdams because when Mahal made us, he made us from the strongest and scarcest materials he could find. We are mithril, namadith, just like Mama was.”

 

Ori seemed to think this over for a minute, chewing on her bottom lip. “So the men,” she started, “killed Mama because she was valuable?”

 

“Because she was better than them,” Nori corrected with a smile.

 

Dori didn’t quite know if that’s how she wanted it explained to Ori though but until she found the right words it would have to do. Their mother _was_ a jewel compared to those men anyway. She had been a single mother raising three daughters in the slums of Ered Luin. That alone was something to be respected but their mother had also made sure they had an education, a basis for a life where they didn’t have to do what she did to survive. Dori can still remember the look on her mother’s face when she said she wanted to open a tea shoppe; one full of pride and happiness. And then when Dori _did_ open The Leafy Lady their mother had the brightest smile in the whole room.

 

Ori’s voice wavered again, “What will stop them from taking us? If we’re better than them?”

 

Oh! Like _hell_ Dori would let that happen. She growled out, “Me. I’ll make sure no one gets you, little Ori. Or Nori, or me. I’m going to protect you both.” She placed the hand that wasn’t still in Ori’s hair on Nori’s shoulder.

 

“But we’re ‘dams. We’re strong and rare and they don’t like that. So they’ll try to get us.” Ori looked like she was about to hyperventilate and cry so even when Nori opened her silly mouth that started all this, Dori was grateful.

 

“So we won’t be Dwarrowdams anymore.”

 

At this point all Dori wanted to do was wring her sister’s neck. Maybe letting her speak was a mistake.

 

“But I like being a ‘dam,” Ori said.

 

“Well,” Nori let go of Ori’s hair and placed her hands on her hips, “we don’t have to actually be Dwarrow. Just tell them we are. Or don’t tell me were Dwarrowdams. We won’t have to deal with men or Dwarrow propositioning us or thinking we can’t wield a sword just because we don’t have one in our pants. But when it’s just us sisters we can be ourselves. It can be our little secret.”

 

On the other hand, Nori was a genius.

 

“Exactly,” Dori started, excited now. It was a perfect idea. She could protect her little sisters from all the lechers and creeps out there who simply saw them as the daughters of a whore, to be used and discarded. And it would afford them a level of equality that would otherwise have to be fought for in the world of men. It wasn’t unheard of for a Dwarrowdam to go disguised as a Dwarrow, just uncommon unless they were traveling. Dwarrowdams are considered a treasure to be respected and honored amongst the Dwarrow culture.

 

“Exactly,” she said again, “we will disguise ourselves as Dwarrow, grow our beards long, and wear trousers. We will tell them we are male and then we won’t have to worry about them coming to get us,” Dori smiled.

 

Nori looked unconvinced, like Dori had, in fact, said the craziest thing. But then again, she wanted to protect little Ori, too. Nori was only fifty-six and already some of the Dwarrow were leering at her like she was a prized ox. It made her feel awkward; especially when the people leering were the Dwarrow she had considered her close friends. And she’d always thought that Ori was the pretty one, even with her sticky-outy ears. (Ori’s words, not Nori’s.) So Nori knew, that one day, Ori would be very sought after, suitors lining up around the block to gaze upon her flowing red locks and the sleek beard she was sure to grow. Not to mention it would also be easier to find work in the forges. And Nori wasn’t deluded enough to think that Dori could support all three of them with her tea shoppe. Most of the men thought Dori was a male anyway, what with her blond beard and all.

 

So perhaps it would be easier to be a Dwarrow. She could just tell all her friends she was a boy and everything would go back to normal. And Dori would stop being hassled by the men because she was a ‘dam that owned a shoppe and both older sisters wouldn’t have to worry about some Dwarrow stealing their sister’s virtue. Perfect.

 

Nori smiled.

 

Ori didn’t look so sure. “I can still wear dresses at home, right?”

 

Dori and Nori both burst out laughing.

 

And so it was decided that the daughters of Rina would become the sons of Rina.

 

 

But life wasn’t all cupcakes and rainbows after that.

 

Dori’s tea shoppe did well enough to keep food on the table but not a roof over their heads. That task eventually fell to the tea shoppe itself.

 

“Why are we moving again?” Ori asked, a full pack resting on her shoulders and her stuffed bear in her arms.

 

“Because Mister Harmond is a bastard.” Nori’s answer was met with a sharp smack to the arm by Dori, who glared at her sister.

 

“We’re moving because Mister Harmond isn’t going to allow our rent to be late again,” Dori explained evenly, placing a set of books into her rucksack.

 

“Where are we going to go this time?”

 

Ori always asked the hard questions. It gave Dori a migraine sometimes. Not because her sister was annoying, but because her sister worried her. Both her sisters did. Dori was the one responsible for their health and wellness and right now, they didn’t have a house to call a home. Or an apartment. Or even a cardboard box. All they had was the tea shoppe.

 

Which meant Dori had to swallow her worries deep down where they wouldn’t sneak out and say, “We’ll put a cot or two in the back room at the shoppe. We’ll sleep there until we find a new place to stay. Okay?” She gave her bravest smile to her little sisters.

 

Ori nodded, satisfied, “Okay.”

 

Nori, though, was biting her lip and casting her eyes about the small apartment. “Dori…” she started and that was enough for Dori to know that whatever Nori wanted to talk about, it was going to be a hard conversation. Like about her nearing seventieth birthday and how she could get a job at a forge or even work at the tea shoppe for free. How she wanted to help support them and not just by her sticky fingers and five-finger discounts.

 

Ori, who was thirty-seven now, was staring at her boots, pretending not to hear Nori’s anxious tone. She was smart enough to know that they were poor. Smart enough to know that Nori stole all the coins she “found.” And smart enough to worry endlessly about it all. The only thing she didn’t worry about was the tea shoppe, because they always had customers there. Because when Ori wasn’t sitting in the back room studying her Khuzdul or math tables, she was taking orders or grabbing little paper bags for the loose leaf teas Dori sold by the gram.

 

“Dori,” Ori started, “will this mean we don’t have to wake up so early to go to the shoppe to open it up now?”

 

Ori was happy to hear the laughs her sisters gave at her little statement, a blush rising to her grinning cheeks.

 

“Only an hour,” Dori warned while wagging a finger in her direction, “but yes. We’ll be able to sleep in a little bit.”

 

“Yay!” Ori skipped around the room, trying to make up a song about sleeping in and tea and great sisters. Dori and Nori laughed at her but Ori knew in her heart that they were laughing _with_ her.

 

It was winter, however, so once they got the small place packed up Dori forced them all under thick wool cloaks and knitted scarves. They left the apartment in the early afternoon while there was still enough light for the half hour walk and maybe a return trip if needed but she doubted that.

 

“Do we have everything? Are we ready?” Dori asked again.

 

“I do,” Nori shifted the crate she was carrying with a small grunt. “You, Ori?”

 

“Yep! I have Tusâl,” she held up her bear, “and I have my clothes and my oil crayons and my yarn and Mama’s needles so that Dori can teach me to knit!”

 

Nori ruffled her hair.

 

“Do you both have your tooth brushes? And sleep clothes? And did you remember your combs?”

 

“Yes, Dori, we did. Now let’s go, I’m freezing my man bits off.” It was a running joke to the three of them of them, for obvious reasons, but Nori said it now simply for Ori’s giggles.

 

“Well, let’s head off then.” Dori smiled, “I just need to drop off the keys with Mister Harmond first and then we can head to the shoppe.”

 

Nori and Ori nodded.

 

“Ori and I will head straight there. You’ll meet us?”

 

Dori nodded, already walking towards their ex-landlord’s house. “Be careful! And you’ve got your knives if anything—”

 

But Nori cut her off, “Yes, yes. We know. I have four and Ori has her pig sticker.”

 

Ori, who was humming to Tusâl, pretended not to notice how odd it must be for anyone else who may have seen them; two young Dwarrow, with all their possessions on their backs, yelling about knives. But she didn’t dwell on it for long, instead focusing on her sister’s footsteps in the snow.

 

She was so focused on Nori’s black boots that she didn’t see or hear the group of miners as they walked down the other side of the street. If she had noticed them, she would have darted out of the way so as to avoid getting bumped. Instead, she watched as Nori’s laces bounced with each step. Up and down and up and—Suddenly, Ori was staring at the sky and her right hip and elbow burned.

 

“O-ow!” Tears started to well in Ori’s eyes.

 

“Oh, Mahal! Are ya okay, lad?” It was the miner that bumped her. He didn’t look any older than Nori, with dark hair pulled into two braids that fell over his shoulders. He didn’t have much of a beard besides stubble but he did have a fancy mustache.

 

And Ori had no idea what to do. She’d never talked or really met anyone that hadn’t met Nori or Dori first. So she blushed darkly and stared at the strange Dwarrow.

 

“Oi! What are you doing to my little brother?!” Nori stormed over to them, glaring and heaving the crate like she was going to dump it on the stranger’s head.

 

“Nothin’. Swear it,” the stranger rushed, “I wasn’t payin’ attention and knocked him over. Was helpin’ him up is all.”

 

“No thanks to you, he as there on the first place,” Nori lifted a leg to support the crate and reached her now free hand out to Ori. Ori grabbed it and pulled herself up, brushing off her trousers and feeling her knee for damage.

 

“You’re okay, ain’tcha?” The miner looked worried but had a nervous smile on his face.

 

Ori took a half step behind Nori, “Y-yeah. ‘m fine.” She noticed that the miner had little wooden animal beads threaded into his boot laces.

 

The miner beamed, “Good. ‘m glad. Name’s Bofur. At your service,” he gave a nod of the head at the two sisters.

 

Ori waited for Nori to introduce herself first but her older sister was unusually silent. Ori glanced up at her and saw that a blush had stolen across her sister face, which was very odd because Nori never blushed. Ori glanced at the miner to see he was still just smiling and waiting for a response.

 

Suddenly, Nori cleared her throat and, adjusting the crate, said, “Nori. This is my little brother, Ori.”

 

Ori looked back to the miner to see him still beaming. He had a lot of teeth. Or maybe he just showed them off well. “H-hello,” she offered.

 

“You two moving or something?” Bofur asked, gesturing to Nori’s crate.

 

Ori almost nodded but Nori cut her off quickly. “Just moving a few things to storage in our brother’s shoppe,” she adjusted the crate with a soft grunt.

 

“Oh! Let me help,” Bofur stepped forward and plucked the crate from Nori like it was nothing.

 

“It’s fine, Mister Bofur. We can—”

 

But Bofur merely sent Nori a bright smile, saying, “It’s nothin’. And the least I can do after knocking Ori over.”

 

Nori’s eyes tightened but she nodded. “Fine. This way,” Nori jerked her head down the street.

 

Ori followed behind Nori immediately, causing Bofur to jog to catch up. Ori though it was a bit funny. Nori had never acted so awkward around someone before. She was always so suave around people and unruffled. But now she still had a bit of a blush above her short new beard and avoided Bofur’s eyes. Sure, Bofur had pretty braids and nice shoe laces but other than that, Ori thought he looked pretty ordinary. And he had soot under his finger nails. Dori would have conniptions if Bofur even _thought_ of touching her tea cups with those hands.

 

“So what shoppe does your brother run?” Bofur asked, walking beside Nori now.

 

“The Leafy Lady.” It came out a bit terser than Nori meant it but she was dealing with a whole new situation she’d never encountered before.

 

“Never heard of it,” Bofur shrugged. “What’s it sell?”

 

“It’s a tea shoppe.”

 

“Oh, like a pub? But for tea?”

 

Nori wrinkled her nose. “Not really. It’s mostly just teas but we do have a few cakes and biscuits we sell. Also some loose leaf teas for if you want to just take it home and brew it yourself.”

 

“Sounds nice,” and Bofur gave one of his big cheery grins again.

 

Nori didn’t really know _what_ she was talking about by the time they made it to the front door of the shoppe. She just knew that whatever they _were_ talking about it was hilarious and she had no clue how they got to the topic. She was sure her cheeks would be sore for hours after from all the smiling and laughing. Truthfully, it pissed her off. How dare this silly little miner be such a charmer?

 

When all of Nori’s friends started hitting on her it made Nori awkward and she’d just wanted to be left alone. But she _knew_ Bofur was hitting on her (or at least being excessively charming) and it made her _laugh_! And _blush_! Like she was in her thirties again! And it made her want to hit him and keep him talking at the same time. This silly miner, getting her all out of sorts. And she’d only just met him! The arse.

 

But Nori was still laughing as she fished the key for the shoppe out of her pocket.

 

“I don’t believe that at all.”

 

“Totally true,” Bofur assured, “totally naked in front of the entire family. He has yet to live it down.”

 

Nori pushed the door open and held it as Bofur and Ori walked inside. Bofur gave a low whistle, “Nice place.”

 

Nori supposed it was, high walls lined with shelves full of packaged teas, loose leaf teas, tea pots, tea cups, tea spoons, little cream pots, sugar dishes, and even books _about_ tea. There was a glass box by the register full of cakes and biscuits and sweet breads. There were a few tables with chairs for people to sit and drink their teas with a few books scattered about, including a coloring books and oil crayons for any children that came in with parents.

 

“Thanks,” Nori shrugged, “Dori will appreciate hearing it.”

 

“That’s your other brother?” Bofur had set the crate down on the nearest table and was perusing the section of cook books about treats that went well with teas. He pulled a copy of _Everyday Tea Biscuits_ off the shelf and flipped through it idly.

 

“Yeah, he’s headed over from a… a meeting.”

 

Bofur missed the frown that flashed over Nori’s face but he was still smiling when he looked over at the strawberry blond. “These for sale?” he asked, waggling the book in his hand.

 

“Huh?” Nori popped up from when she was shoving a few things behind the counter. Her eyes landed on the cook book and she nodded, “Yep. That one is…” she wracked her brain for the price but Dori would know off the top of her head. She looked around for the price book but before she could find it a voice from the doorway to the back room spoke up.

 

“That one is two bronze pieces.” Ori was peeking half out from the doorway, her red hair falling over her shoulders because she refused to cut it or let Dori pull it back. Nori’s own hair was pulled into a ponytail at the base of her skull, a single bouffant running down the middle.

 

Bofur reached into his pocket for his coin purse, “I’ll take it. My little brother Bombur will love it. He’s been hanging onto our Ma’s apron strings since before he could walk.”

 

“Sure,” Nori flipped open the receipt booklet and grabbed the charcoal to write down the price and the title.

 

“Nori?”

 

Nori glanced up from writing to her little sister, still by the door. “Yeah?” she asked.

 

“Can I have a cake?” Ori pouted, knowing it was her sister’s weakness.

 

“Hmm,” Nori pretended to think it over while scanning the cakes for one Dori wouldn’t miss. The pumpkin ones looked a bit stale. She rubbed at her bearded to play it up. “I dunno, Ori, what if it ruins your dinner?”

 

Ori shook her head franticly, “It won’t!” She run up behind the counter and hugged Nori’s hips. “The pumpkin ones are old,” she whispered, “and I can make my own cocoa.”

 

Nori smirked down at her sister, “Don’t tell Dori.” She pulled a piece of wax paper from the tray and snatched the pumpkin cake from the glass box.

 

“I won’t. I won’t,” Ori danced from one foot to the other till the little cake was in her hands and she ran back to the back room to read and make her hot chocolate drink.

 

A soft smile crossed Nori’s lips as she watched her little sister disappear. Pretty soon, she knew, Ori would be all grown up and finding some Dwarrow to take care of her instead. It was a sad thought but Dori would take the reality harder than Nori would. That part, at least, she looked forward to.

 

“You really care for him, huh?”

 

Nori nearly jumped, having forgotten Bofur was so close. “Yeah,” she blushed slightly. “My brothers are all I really have. Our mother passed just over a decade ago and none of us have ever met our fathers.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Nori gave a half shrug, “It’s gotten easier over the years. Getting Ori to smile again was the hardest part.”

 

Bofur nodded, chin on his fists as he leaded on the counter. “I can’t imagine if my Ma died. It’d break Bombur’s heart.”

 

Nori didn’t quite know what to say. She never did when the subject came to her mother’s death. She tugged on her ponytail twice. “Our mother was murdered by a group of men.”

 

Bofur was silent. Nori studied Bofur’s face for his reaction. He looked shocked and confused. And angry. It was a surprisingly attractive look on the miner.

 

“Where they ever…?”

 

Nori shook her head and the miner cursed in Khuzdul. Nori was flattered.

 

A jingle pulled both of their attention to the door where Dori was nudging her way inside.

 

“Nori!” She called, “You make it alright?”

 

“Besides acquiring a cheerful stalker, we made it just fine.”

 

Bofur scoffed, “I see how it is. I take time from my busy day to help you and your brothers out and suddenly I’m a stalker.” He gave a fake little sniff.

 

Nori just snorted. She walked over to her blond sister and grabbed a few of things she was carrying. “His name is Bofur and he’s actually quite pleasant. For a stalker.”

 

Bofur chuckled from across the shoppe. “Well, forgive me for helping then.”

 

“He’s nice, brother,” Nori smiled at Dori.

 

Dori gave a somewhat skeptical nod but didn’t comment, simply put all their belongings away and opened up the shoppe.

 

*

 

The next day Nori was awoke by Ori’s tiny hands shaking her awake.

 

“Wake up, Nori!” The child hissed, “Wake up!”

 

Nori groaned and buried her face in her crappy little pillow. Whatever time it was, it had to be too early to be awake. “What is it, little one?”

 

Ori tugged on the blankets, “Bofur is here.” She urged, “Dori said get up and make yourself look like you didn’t sleep here.”

 

But Nori was already out of the cot and rushing to the little bathroom that was off of the store room they had slept in. She washed her face and brushed her hair and then her beard.

 

“Was he asking for me?”

 

Ori nodded, “He brought his little brother. I was talking to Bombur and he’s sixty-six. He’s three years younger than you. And Bofur is ninety-six but his next birthday is Âzyungel Day in February. I told him your birthday was in a few weeks, at the end of January, and he said he’d have to bring you something since it’s your coming of age and all.”

 

Nori felt like someone misplaced her stomach. Bofur was getting her a birthday present? She felt like throwing up.

 

“Terrific,” she muttered.

 

“Come on, Nori, they’re waiting! And I think Esja really likes Bombur! She keeps bringing him extra biscuits with his tea.”

 

Nori rolled her eyes. Esja was a smart Dwarrowdam if boisterous and loud. They had hired her to take orders and bring tea to the customers just a year ago and luckily she had proven her worth; being able to tell the teas apart as easily as Dori and having a bright smile for the children that wondered in. Esja was nice to everyone.

 

With one last fuss to her hair, Nori left the bathroom. She snagged her coat off of the bed on her way out of the store room and was just fixing the lay of it when a cheery voice called her name.

 

“Nori!” Bofur was waving her over to the table where he and his brother were sitting.

 

“Hello, Bofur. I didn’t expect you back so soon, stalker,” Nori smirked but she still pulled out one of the chairs at the table and sat with the two brothers. Ori brought them tea and cakes and sat on Nori’s knee for a bit reading or drawing or challenging Bofur to arm wrestling (which the Dwarrow always let her win, after putting up a few seconds of feigned resistance).

 

Esja did come by more often than usual and always seemed to cater more towards Bombur. So maybe Ori did have a point in saying the Dwarrowdam liked the rotund Dwarrow. Interesting.

 

But what was more interesting was the fact that even after that initial stage of new friendship, where you wanted to be around the other person all the time, Nori still wanted to be around Bofur _all the time_. And the miner seemed to as well. He would usually stop in at the shoppe at least twice a week. Or occasionally he’d bring Nori out to hit up a pub or Bofur would distract a few men and Nori would snatch their coin purses. The two had decided the men deserved it. On her mother’s behalf.

 

Bofur was quickly Nori’s favorite person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> namad/namadith: sister/little sister  
> Tusâl: hunter  
> Âzyungel: love of love. In this instance, I'm using it in place of Valentine's Day! yay, bofur


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know of any mistakes!

*

 

The formal tunic was itchy. Ori just wanted to pull it off but she knew she couldn’t. Stupid wool. And it was hot, too. She pulled at the collar again.

 

“Stop that,” Dori snapped, whapping her little sister’s hand.

 

Ori pouted, “But it’s hot, Dori. I didn’t want to wear it.”

 

Dori’s lips tightened and she glared at Ori out of the corner of her eye. “You didn’t have a choice. It’s a wedding. You have to wear it.”

 

Ori pouted and scowled down at her booted feet.

 

“At least Bombur and Esja decided to get married in the winter instead of the summer, hey?”

 

The little red head nodded at her other older sister. Nori was right: at least with a November wedding she could step outside and get some cold air. Ori tried to ignore the prickling on her neck and focus on the ceremony at the front of the hall.

 

Esja looked absolutely beautiful; jewels and beads and little carved stones braided into her hair and strung around her throat and wrists. Her gown was a soft blue with silver embroidery and golden lace at the cuffs. Her boots even had golden lace over the light blue and an inch or so of heel. Ori thought her friend looked like a princess. And she hoped that whenever she got married (because Ori was certain she wanted to) that she looked half as pretty as Esja. Once the ceremony was over Ori would tell her just how pretty she looked and how happy Ori was for her.

 

It had taken the two dwarves nearly five years to get over their shyness of love to start courting, even with Ori telling a blushing Esja that Bombur liked her and with Bofur telling his brother to talk to her. Luckily, the two hadn’t taken as long with the actual courting. The three year courtship was actually considered rather average for their culture. And now they were married and Ori was so excited!

 

And itchy.

 

Unfortunately.

 

But Ori ignored all that unpleasantness and watched as the juzrâl pronounced them Dwarrow and yâsith. A cheer for happiness and wealth went up in the hall for the new couple and they all stomped their feet and clapped. Bombur and Esja walked down the aisle with bright smiles and went to share their first drink as a married couple, signifying the start of the party.

 

It was after everyone had gone by to congratulate and offer their blessings that a pair of voices called Ori away from her sisters.

 

“Ori!” they called as one and the girl’s smile was immediate, her gaze snapping to Dori to ask permission.

 

“Go play. But be careful! And respectful!”

 

But Ori had already disappeared into the crowd, yelling for her cousins.

 

“Fili! Kili!”

 

“Ori!”

 

The young Dwarrowdam ran into her cousin’s arms, both pulling her into a hug at once. “Hello! Hello! I didn’t think you’d make it! Isn’t Esja pretty?”

 

Before the boys could answer their mother interrupted: “Hello, little Ori. How are you and your brothers?” Lady Dis smiled down at her youngest cousin. The princess’s chocolate hair was braided as intricately as Dori’s greying blond locks but her long beard was plaited into five-part braids that fell down her chest and nearly to her waist.

 

“Princess Dis!” Ori blushed darkly at having forgotten to greet her royal cousin first and bowed as low as she could. “I apologize for—”

 

But Dis merely laughed and placed a hand on Ori’s shoulder, giving it a fond squeeze. “No need to apologize, Ori. I know how close you and my sons are.”

 

A grin split Ori’s face. She was exceptionally close to her cousins. Fili was only fourteen years older than her and Kili just four. They had been playmates since just after her mother died. But Ori still had a question to answer before she could run off and barely escape the trouble Fili and Kili always got her into.

 

“My brothers and I are doing well,” she smiled, trained to say that instead of the truth. The truth was that she and her sisters had been living in their store room for the last year after their most recent apartment caught fire. It was the longest they had stayed in the store room and it worried all three sisters, even though they didn’t discuss it. And Ori knew that Nori was stealing again and it seemed like a lot more than she ever did before. But she continued the lie before she could be found out. “The Leafy Lady has been busier than ever. We’re opening earlier now for some of the miners. Dori made a new extra strong dark blend they like.”

 

Dis smiled, “That’s wonderful. I’m glad the shoppe is doing so well. And your education?”

 

“Mama!” both boys called, “do we have to—”

 

But Dis clicked her tongue at her sons. “You two are princes. Niceties like this simply can’t be ignored, even if they are boring,” she gave them a fond, knowing smile. “But for now, don’t cause trouble. And if you do, don’t get caught!” she yelled after them as they ran off.

 

Ori at least had the courtesy to smile at the Princess and throw a “Thank you!” over her shoulder.

 

It was a few hours later that the three were sitting on the back porch of the hall, chatting and passing a stolen tankard full of ale around. They were discussing Fili’s new mustache and Kili was teasing his brother about how the blond was already fifty-nine and just sprouting his beard now.

 

“Shut up, Kili! You’re _fourty_ -nine and don’t even have one strand on your chin! I bet you’ll turn seventy before you get a proper beard at all!”

 

“Nuh-uh! I’m going to grow a beard even better than Mama’s! And it will make both of you so jealous that your anger will burn your own beards from your chins!” Kili snatched the tankard from a giggling Ori and started to drain it.

 

“Hey!” Fili launched himself at his brother, “I stole it! I deserve the most!” He tried the pry the stein away from his brother’s greedy fingers but, already a bit blurry around the edges (it wasn’t the first tank they’d shared), Kili ended up spilling it all over Fili’s face. The brothers cursed and it merely caused Ori to laugh harder, falling onto her back and trying not to burst into tears.

 

“Fili! Kili! Shush up! We’ll get caught!” Ori shoved at the two wrestling boys in the darkness.

 

“You’re the worst brother ever, Kili!”

 

“You’re the one that knocked the tank from my hand!”

 

Ori couldn’t help the giggles and collapsed again. “Guys!”

 

“And just what to you lot think ya are doin’?” A new, gruff voice inquired.

 

“Oh shit.”

 

Ori’s face flamed red when she realized what she had said, a hand flying to cover her mouth. Her eyes were wide as her head tipped back to stare at the new Dwarrow. He was the tallest she had ever seen, except for maybe her cousin Thorin. Mahal, he was tall. His arms, thick and tattooed, crossed over his chest, glaring at all three of them in turn.

 

Ori snapped her legs together and sat up, gulping. Whether it was with fear or something else, she was too young to decide. Her face burned red. But Fili and Kili were obviously terrified from how they were stuttering out apologies left and right. The two also spent a great deal of time blaming each other, and Ori.

 

The redhead nearly choked on her tongue when she realized the boys were saying she suggested they steal the first tankard. She wanted to hit them and scream at them but the mortification was too much. She could only stare wide eyed as her heart hammered in her chest. She was going to be sick. Oh, Mahal! Those two beardless liars! She was going to be sick.

 

And she was sick. All over Kili’s green tunic. The blood drained from her face.

 

Kili was shrieking. Fili collapsed into giggles. Ori was sure this level of embarrassment could only mean death was soon to follow.

 

She wished Dori and Nori well. They would be better off without her. Vomiting on a prince of Erebor! And in front of that tall Dwarrow that looked like he could strike a full grown warg down with one look. Oh, Mahal.

 

“What’s going on out here, Dwalin?”

 

 _Dori_.

 

If she wasn’t a dead Dwarrowdam before, she sure was now. At least with Dori, death would be quick and painless. She buried her face in her hands and tried to block out _absolutely_ everything.

 

Half an hour later and Ori was surprised to find she was still alive. Oh, she had gotten an earful from Dori for what she had done but Fili and Kili had to face their uncle’s wrath so maybe Dori _was_ the safer option. And Kili was stuck in the sick covered tunic till the reception ended, much to Fili’s amusement. And Nori’s. And Bofur’s. And…. _Dwalin’s._ Which was the name of that tall, good-looking Dwarrow that had first stumbled upon them. Thanks to Fili and Kili’s arguing.

 

Ori wanted to cry a river she was so embarrassed. But she guessed it could have been worse. Like being covered in sick. Or covered in ale. So maybe she actually got off light. But, Lord, the tall one, _Dwalin_ , probably thought she was such a _dwarfling_!

 

 

Ori groaned and let her head thump against het table. “Nori,” she mumbled, “please kill me. I am beyond embarrassed.”

 

Nori simply laughed into her drink and ruffled her little sister’s hair. “You are at least not covered in sick or drink, so I would say you have lucked out the best tonight.”

 

Bofur snickered on Nori’s other side. “Aye, for your first time with drink, it is quite impressive.”

 

Ori groaned again. “Dori is going to kill me when he returns, brother.”

 

The thief ruffled her hair again, chuckling. “I’m going for a smoke,” Nori said instead. “Care to join me, Bofur?”

 

The miner covered his ears with his hands and pouted. “But my poor ears will freeze, Nori! I can’t go outside! Let’s smoke here!”

 

Nori rolled her eyes, pipe held between her teeth. She gave a sharp yank to one of Bofur’s braids. “Dori will kill _me_ if I smoke around Ori while indoors, you know that. Now _come on_!” She practically dragged Bofur from the hall by his hair.

 

“But my ears!”

 

“So I’ll buy you hat!”

 

Ori had already stopped paying attention to the two, instead trying to dig the dirt from under her nails. Dori was talking to Lady Dis about the whole _fiasco_ and so Ori was left to her thoughts. She could have handled the whole situation with Fili and Kili and _Dwalin_ so much better. It would have been so much better if she had thought of something witty or clever. Maybe even leaving the two idiots to be found before _Dwalin_ found them. Or just telling them it was stupid to pinch a tankard in the first pl—

 

What the hell had she gotten under her thumb nail? Mahal, it was stubborn. It wasn’t ink; she scrubbed her nails before getting ready for the wedding. So it had to be dirt or maybe a bit of char from the roast or—

 

“Damnit,” Ori hissed under her breath. She’d broken her nail. Brows furrowing together, she pried the stupid bit of nail from her thumb. “Oh!” And now she was bleeding.

 

Great. This night was terrible.

 

Ori glared at her nail like it had betrayed her. She pressed the pad of her thumb against the other fingers of her hand and watched the blood well from the little tear in her skin. Mahal hated her, she was sure. Ori licked her thumb clean and glanced around the room.

 

To Ori’s complete and utter horror, she realized she was being watched.

 

By _Dwalin_.

 

Oh, Mahal.

 

Her blush could melt iron.

 

*

 

When the evening ended and the sisters were back at the tea shoppe, Dori gathered them together in the back room and announced that they were going to live with their cousins.

 

“What?”

 

“We,” Dori waved a finger around at the three of them, “are going to live with cousin Dis and King Thorin.”

 

“Why?”

 

“For Ori’s education, of course,” Dori said this like it was obvious.

 

Of course, that’s what Dori told them so they would tell everyone else that’s why they moving in with the royal family. In truth, it was because Dis seemed to just _know_ that they were homeless and cowed Dori into moving in. The princess had actually been the one to say that it would better Ori’s education and Dori caved easily after that. But it _was_ true that living with the royals _would_ be good for Ori’s education. Dis was a phenomenally smart Dwarrowdam and she could teach Ori a number of things.

 

And they’d have a roof over their heads they didn’t have to worry about losing.

 

Even so, Dori still lectured her sisters for the next several days about what they could do to help out in Thorin’s household in order to earn their keep.

 

“And for Mahal’s sake, Nori, _stop_ pinching things!”

 

*

 

Dori was fretting. She knew she was and she was mature enough to admit it. She twisted her hands together as she paced and bit at her lip and fussed with the braids twisted at the base of her neck. And it was all _his_ fault.

 

“Dori?”

 

Dori was snapped out of her thoughts by Ori’s soft voice.

 

“What? I’m fine, I’m fine,” she hurried to reassure while waving a hand dismissively.

 

Ori was silent for a moment, twisted around in her chair to watch her sister. “You don’t look it. Are you worried he won’t apprentice me?”

 

Dori stopped pacing. “What?” She rushed to her sister’s side and brushed a few strands of hair out of Ori’s eyes. The silly girl still wouldn’t let Dori cut it for her. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. You are brilliant and studious, Ori. He’s take you as his apprentice in a moment.” She tried to smile but Dori could feel it wasn’t quite up to snuff.

 

“Okay,” Ori nodded and chewed at her lip, eyes focusing back on the table.

 

Dori straightened her sister collar and went back to her pacing. She wasn’t worried about Ori, she was worried about _him_. Ori was fifty now and it was time for her to decide on a skill. She’d be trained for the next twenty years and then graduate on her coming of age. And she wanted to be a scholar, specializing in scribing. And, by Mahal’s grace, _he_ was the only one Dori trusted to train her sister.

 

But the last time she has seen _him_ was after the Battle of Azanulbizar when she’d told him that she couldn’t be with him anymore because she had to take care of her mother who was dealing with a difficult pregnancy and had just been left by her second husband. Dori had stuttered through her explanation, _him_ holding her hands the entire time, and when she was done she had tears running down her face into her beard. She had apologized, knowing she was hurting him and knowing it was the worst time to end their courtship because they had all lost someone in Azanulbizar and _he_ had lost his father and several cousins. By the time she was finally quiet _he_ was holding her about her shoulders and murmuring comforting words to her. _He_ sat with her until she was calmed, walked her home, kissed her forehead, and said _he_ understood and wished her well. That she would always have _his_ heart.

 

And now she was going to see _him_ again after so many decades.

 

Her heart felt like it was going to come out of her chest through her throat. Her palms were clammy. Her mouth felt dry.

 

“Dori.”

 

Again her littlest sister pulled her from her thoughts. “Yes, Ori?”

 

“Is he really that intimidating? Th-that he’s got you all out of sorts?”

 

Dori’s eyes widened. She needed to calm down. Not for herself, but for Ori. She took a deep breath. “Your teacher and I… We are old friends and I simply haven’t seen him in a very long time. I am nervous of seeing him again in so long.”

 

Ori brows drew together, a deep thought swirling in her eyes and Dori waited for her sister to gather up her thoughts.

 

“Does,” Ori started, “does he know? About…?”

 

Dori shook her head, “Only me. Last I saw him was before Nori was born.”

 

Ori nodded, “Okay.” She paused for a moment, staring at her hands. “I love you, Dori,” she said at last.

 

Dori made a noise in the back of her throat, drew her sister close, and kissed Ori’s head. “I love you, too, little Ori.”

 

There was a soft knock at the door. The sisters pulled apart and watched as the door opened. Thorin walked in first, thanking whoever was behind him for coming all the way to see about gaining an apprentice.

 

And then _he_ spoke. “It is nothing, my friend. I am always willing to train those willing to learn.”

 

Dori’s heart stopped. By Mahal’s grace, his voice was still as soft and smooth as she remembered: a lovely summer’s breeze caressing her broken heart.

 

A chair scraped back and Dori placed a reassuring hand on Ori’s shoulder.

 

“H-hello, Master Balin,” Ori blushed at her stutter as she bowed. “I am Ori, son of Rina.”

 

“Oh,” the Dwarrow turned to look at them fully. There were more lines on his face and his hair a lighter grey but, after a quick flash of emotions across his eyes, his smile was still breath-taking.

 

Dori wanted to hide. Instead, she reminded herself that she wasn’t a child. She had a few grey hairs to prove it, too. So she straightened her spine and said, “Hello again, Balin.” The smile on her face felt far brighter than any she had given lately. But she pushed her feelings aside and placed a hand on Ori’s shoulder. She was here for her sister, not herself.

 

So after pleasantries were exchanged Dori excused herself. As soon as she was out the door she practically ran to the room she shared with her sisters. She closed the door and rested her head against it.

 

“Balin.”

 

She remembered now why she refused to let herself think about the Dwarrow. About his charming smile or kind eyes or soft laughs. By Mahal’s grace, this was going to be tougher than she thought.

 

*

 

“So you are going by ‘he’ now?”

 

The soft voice startled Dori and she nearly dropped the full tea kettle all over the floor. “Mahal’s grace, Balin! Announce yourself!” The Dwarrow did always like to try to sneak up on her.

 

“Apologies,” he murmured.

 

Dori watched somewhat wearily as Balin pulled out the wooden chair at the table and sat.

 

But the Dwarrow still had a small smile on his face that said he wasn’t nearly as sorry as he should be.

 

“Tea?” she asked instead. “I’m making black tea with a bit of peppermint.”

 

“Sounds lovely.”

 

Dori nodded and turned her back to grab the tea pot, pouring in a dash of water to swirl and heat the pot. She poured the water down the drain and then filled it with the hot water. She pulled out a few pinches of leaves and sprinkled them in.

 

“Two sugars and a dash of cream still?” She grabbed another tea cup and saucer from the cupboard.

 

“Of course.”

 

Dori finished making the tea quickly and brought both cups to the table. She placed Balin’s before him and sat across, eyes pinned to the swirl of her drink. She knew Balin hadn’t forgotten his question but she wanted to steel herself against his kind eyes. She wasn’t about to pretend that his nice words meant he wanted to court her again. It had been far too long since they last spoke. Even if part of her longed to keep him near.

 

Dori took a deep breath and braced herself for the conversation to follow. “I’m doing it for my brothers. For Nori and Ori. After our mother passed, it was easier. So no one would… solicit me. They wouldn’t think I was following in my mother’s footsteps.”

 

Balin blew across his tea. “Sound reasoning. Men have a tendency to be sexist as well. Ori told me about your tea shoppe. I’m glad you followed your dream.”

 

A sad little smile crossed her face. “You should stop in sometime. It’s the Leafy Lady, down by Hampton Street.”

 

Balin nodded, “If you truly wish me visit.”

 

“I do.”

 

Balin smiled one of his soft little smiles and Dori knew she was still entirely lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> juzrâl: priest  
> yâsith: wife


	3. Three

*

 

Ori was a little beyond nervous. And that was still an understatement. It would be closer to the truth to say she was actually having a mild panic attack. It was her coming of age, her seventieth birthday, the biggest party she’d have in her life (except for hopefully her wedding). She was going to be sick. Everywhere.

 

Instead she sat on her bed and placed her head in her hands, fingers gripping at her red hair.

 

“Deep breaths, Ori. Deep breaths. In and out. It’s just party. You’ll be okay. Nnnn!” She bit down on her lip to keep from panicking. She forced herself to focus on the weather outside her window. It was nice and sunny, a perfect summer day. She wanted to crawl under her bed covers and hide.

 

“Ori! Are you ready yet?”

 

Ori squeaked. “Y-yes, Nori! One-one moment!” Quickly, Ori stood, straighten her tunic, brushed her finger through her hair, took a last deep breath, and hoped her blush had finally faded.

 

She opened the door slowly and there was Nori, leaning nonchalantly on the door frame.

 

“Ready, little bug?” Nori tugged gently on Ori’s ear but the younger girl batted the hand away.

 

“Yes, I’m ready.”

 

“Good. Dwalin was wondering if Balin had actually approved your final assessment or not.”

 

Ori would have fallen down the stairs if Nori hadn’t caught her elbow.

 

“I-I-I don’t know wh…”

 

Nori was laughing so hard her own face was red by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs and she was nearly crying. She wrapped an arm around Ori’s shoulders as the assembled dwarves cheered to Ori’s health and prosperity. Nori didn’t let go, even through Ori’s struggles, until she managed to plant a somewhat sloppy kiss to her little sister’s forehead.

 

“I love you, my little sister,” she whispered and Ori covered her face with her hands.

 

“I hate you, Nori.”

 

But Nori just smiled brighter.

 

A hand clapped Ori’s shoulder and gave her a fond shake. “Congratulations, little Ori!” It was Bofur, a bright cheery smile on his face and a tankard in his other hand.

 

“Thanks, Bofur.”

 

Bofur and Nori steered Ori into the crowd of people and it was very nearly overwhelming her all over again. But then Dori swept in.

 

The older Dwarrowdam delivered a punch to first Nori’s then Bofur’s arm and, while both were crying in pain, stole Ori away.

 

“Balin wishes to speak with you for a moment,” she said as she gave Ori a fond squeeze. “I am so proud of you, Ori.” Dori steered her sister through the house and towards the archway where the party spilled into the yard. “And I know that Mama would be so proud of you, too. She wanted all of us to be educated and be able to provide for ourselves without worrying about when our next meal will be or if we’ll have enough for rent or clothes. You’ve chosen a respectable profession and you are beyond smart. You’ll go far, Ori, and I am proud to be your sibling. Just as Mama is proud to be your Mama, and you should be proud to be her child.”

 

Ori tried to wipe away the tears with the cuff of her tunic before anyone would notice. “Dori…” Suddenly, Ori was in a bone crushing hug and eternally grateful she was nearly as strong as her sister. “Thank you,” she finally managed, and then, when breathing became hard, “Dori, you can let me go now.”

 

Dori pulled back quickly, her eyes slightly red. She nodded. “Right, right. I’m going to make some tea. Balin is just over there,” she said while gesturing over Ori’s shoulder. Dori spun and left quickly.

 

Ori rolled her eyes at her sister and decided that maybe Dori was just on her monthly. The Dwarrowdam turned and found her mentor quickly.

 

“Hello, Mister Balin,” she greeted.

 

Balin smiled and clasped his hands at his belt. “Hello Ori.” And he, too, said a few words about her schooling and how he was proud of her and Ori—

 

Ori really just wished that Fili and Kili had taken her out for a pint like they had threatened last night. But she knew that there was no getting out of this stupid party. Dori would surely kill her and Dis would give her The Look. And Nori was having far too much fun watching her flounder.

 

It was actually while Ori was sitting and plotting her revenge against Nori that, of all people, Dwalin came to sit by her. The redhead had been slouched over the table, chin resting on her crossed arms, and glaring at the far wall when a tank of ale was placed before her by a tattooed hand. Ori was ashamed to admit that she jumped but there was no way she could even hope to deny the dark red blush that stormed across her face.

 

“Mister Dwalin,” she greeted.

 

The Dwarrow grunted as he fell into the chair next to her, his left arm across his chest his right holding the stein to his lips.

 

“Never seen anyone look so put out on their own coming of age party.”

 

Ori shrugged a single shoulder. “I don’t like being the center of attention,” she finally mumbled to her drink.

 

Dwalin hummed, “Couldn’t tell.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, a smirk on his lips.

 

Ori blushed again. The Dwarrow was just teasing her now. If he wasn’t so intimidating she’d hit him.

 

“Are you sure you should be sitting so close to me while I have this?” She raised the stein, “I’m sure no one has forgotten Bombur and Esja’s wedding yet.”

 

Dwalin laughed instead of answering. It was a rich, deep sound and never failed to raise a heat behind Ori’s ears.

 

“If I recall correctly,” Dwalin began, “it was Kili that spilled his ale over Fili.”

 

“Yes, but I might still get sick all over you.”

 

Dwalin laughed again, tipping his head back, his shoulders relaxing. He smiled as he took a long pull from his tankard, staring at Ori all the while.

 

Ori had always found Dwalin’s eyes intense; dark but full of life, like embers. She watched as his fingers tightened minutely around his tankard, the lines of his tattoos accenting his hands, drawing up his muscly forearms like caresses. She wondered if they continued to his broad shoulders, up his corded neck or down the valley of his spine. She knew that wherever they went, they didn’t cross his waist, knew from watching when his shirt tails road up while he trained Fili and Kili when she was supposed to be studying. She wondered, idly, if he had any tattoos on his chest, hidden under his forest of black hair she could glimpse from the V of his pale tunic.  Ori spent a moment wondering if his dark chest hair would be as coarse her own smattering of red chest hair or if they would be as smooth as the hair that adorned her legs.

 

That thought led her to wonder what his fingers would feel like, trailing up her bare calves, stroking the back of her knees, or sliding across her inner thighs. Maybe his hands would feel rough from callouses but they’d probably be gentle as they splayed across her back. Or maybe they’d grip hard enough to bruise on her hips. Perhaps he’s use his thumb and index to pinch at her nipples. Or maybe… maybe….

 

Ori suddenly remembered just where she was, what she was thinking about, and just who she was sitting next to. And her blush had never been darker or hotter. She grabbed her tankard eagerly and tried to drown her embarrassment: fantasizing about the Dwarrow while he was sitting right next to her. She was so awkward.

 

Dwalin was laughing next to her, though, so she at least hoped he hadn’t noticed her abundance of utter mortification.

 

This was worse than when she’d been sick on Kili.

 

Instead of mentioning anything, Dwalin leaned down and picked something up from the floor. It was wrapped in simple brown parchment and had a rectangular base with a raised ridge down the middle.

 

Dwalin grunted a simple, “Happy birthday, Ori.”

 

Ori blushed, “Wh-what? You didn’t need to-to get me anything.”

 

Dwalin shrugged a large shoulder and stood from the table. “I know. I wanted to,” and the warrior disappeared into the crowd.

 

Ori stared at where Dwalin vanished for a long moment before turning back to the present left at the table. It seemed to just be staring at her, waiting for her move. Very much like how Dwalin would sometimes look at her, waiting for her to tell him her comfort zone. Slowly, she reached for it. Whatever it was it wasn’t heavy and didn’t seem to have sharp edges. For a short second, Ori thought about waiting to open it but then the thought of Nori teasing her about whatever it was got to her and she pulled at the twine holding the parchment shut.

 

What Ori found inside took her breath away. She was absolutely floored and somewhat embarrassed that Dwalin, who never seemed to say more than three sentences to her at once, knew her so well. But sitting in her hands was a blue leather bound sketch book with a geometric gold filigree embossed to the cover with a matching blue leather pen roll filled with ten different sized pens and a black ink block. It was absolutely amazing. It was absolutely perfect.

 

It raised a blush to her cheeks like no other and had her heart beating a frantic staccato.

 

She glanced around the room for Dwalin’s face but she couldn’t catch even a glimpse of his charcoal hair. She’d have to find him and thank him for the lovely gift.

 

Soon enough, however, Bombur’s two children ran up to her and grabbed at her hands.

 

“Ori! Ori! Help us hide! Uncle Bofur is after us!”

 

“We stole his hat!”

 

And so she was dragged a bit forcibly into her own party.

 

By the end of the night, Fili had pointed out to Kili that Ori’s beard was looking better than Kili’s stubble, Nori had drunk Bofur under the table, and Dori looked thoroughly flustered standing next to Balin. But Ori still hadn’t caught hide or hair of Dwalin.

 

All in all, Ori was mildly surprised she enjoyed her coming of age.

 

*

 

Nori wasn’t surprised when Thorin came back from adventuring that the king had gotten the crazy notion of reclaiming Erebor stuck in his head. It was something the uncrowned king would do. And Nori knew as soon as Thorin mentioned it that Fili and Kili would follow. And because Fili and Kili would follow, Dwalin would go to protect them. And Nori wasn’t stupid so she knew that if Dwalin went Ori would try to go also and if Ori was going so would she. Nori was the big sister and she was going to protect Ori. And Dori would go for the same reasons she was. And since Dori was going Balin would as well. Nori wasn’t blind; she knew the old Dwarrow and her sister had history. A retarded fucking cat could tell Dori and Balin had history. And the old healer would probably be recruited as well and maybe his accountant brother.

 

But since Nori was going (and facing a thrice damned dragon, no less), there was no way she was going to let herself die a virgin. Which was a shameful thing to admit to at one hundred-ten years of age, but it was all Bofur’s fault anyway. She was waiting for the twat to realize she loved him and she wasn’t a boy. She just didn’t realize how fucking dense Bofur was. But since Bofur was the ass that caused the problem, he could at least be the ass that fixed the problem.

 

Which was why Nori was sitting in the full tub with her hair and beard completely unbraided, scrubbing vigorously at a patch of dirt on her left foot. She was going out tonight; to a pub that she and Bofur usually hit up on his free nights and she was going to actually wear a dress. Well, the dress was stolen but it’s not like she had any of her own. And the dress was a nice golden color with red accents and she was really sure that it would look amazing on her. Hopefully. But it was low cut and she was also sure Bofur would like her tits. They talked about the breasts of Dwarrowdams enough that she knew he liked just about all sizes. And it’s not like hers were small. They were usually hidden under several layers of clothes though so this whole night was going to be out of Nori’s comfort zone. But hopefully it would be worth it. Because if she was going to die, she wanted her first (and probably only) time to be with Bofur.

 

Nori placed the little soap loaf on the stool she’d pulled next to the tub and slid under the water. She ran her fingers through her hair, scrubbing at her scalp and then into her beard. She pushed her hair back as she resurfaced. Nori glanced at the clock on the wall and realized she might arrive later than she wanted if she didn’t leave the bath now. So she stood and grabbed her towel, quickly running it over her arms and hair as she stepped from the tub.

 

She did her hair in a feminine style, parting her beard down her chin and braided the hair that fell over her shoulders into each section of her beard. She braided a few little sections of her hair but was sure to keep any beads or important style of braids from her hair. When she was done with her hair she splashed some of Dis’s rose and lavender oil on her neck. Then she pulled on the undergarments of the dress and the dress itself. It did look surprisingly nice on her. Nori pulled on the stockings and then sat to pull on the black leather boots she rarely wore. All dressed, she smoothed her hands over the soft fabric and hoped Bofur didn’t recognize her. But when she looked in the mirror she didn’t even recognize herself.

 

Pressing an ear to the door, Nori tried to calm her nerves. The thief didn’t hear a sound. With a deep breath she opened the door. No one. Good. Nori walked quietly to her room, gathered her knives, and snuck out of the house silently.

 

On the way to the pub, men and Dwarrow alike would take long glances at her but none stopped her or seemed to recognize her. She was sure she actually made it to the pub faster than her usual nights out. When she came to the wooden door of the tavern, her heart was beating over time. What if Bofur recognized her and laughed or said he felt he couldn’t trust her or be her friend because she betrayed him.

 

Well, if Bofur was going to act like that then fuck him.

 

Which was the plan for the night anyway.

 

The roar of the pub was deafening but it was a predominately dwarven pub so at least she could order her ale with Iglishmêk. The bartender placed her drink on the counter and she moved by the fire to wait for Bofur to notice her. He was laughing in the corner with Bombur and his silent cousin Bifur, but Nori knew he always noticed the girls by the fire. And true to form Bofur noticed her in the next few minutes.

 

She was sitting in the arm chair, admiring how the fire lit off the little threads of gold in her dress, when she heard Bofur’s voice.

 

“Hello, m’lady. I couldn’t help but notice you’re sitting here all alone. Are you waiting for someone?” Bofur looked charming but she never realized just how terrible his pickup lines were.

 

Nori smiled anyway, “No, I’m not waiting for anyone. Just a last night on the town before moving south.” It was nice, not having to pitch her voice low. She sometimes forgot how her real voice sounded.

 

“Oh, where you moving?” Bofur sat on the stack of logs by the fire.

 

Nori’s smile turned to a smirk as she answered, lies about moving to the southern mountain range spilling easily from her mouth. Sometimes, Nori figured, being a liar and a thief paid off. Like when you were trying to seduce your best friend who didn’t know you were really a female.

 

It was several drinks later and Nori was giggling into her hand over some lame arse story Bofur was telling about mining. She’d heard it before but the fact Bofur was trying to drunkenly explain it again made it all the more funny. After her giggles had passed, Nori was left staring at Bofur’s wide smile. The miner was leaning his elbows on the arm of the plush chair she was sitting in, having switched his stack of logs for a stool some time ago.

 

“Total truth,” Bofur assured, rising his drink.

 

Nori snorted, “Yes, and I suppose next you’ll tell me birds fly north for the winter, too.” It was a phrase her mother used to say whenever she thought Nori was lying to her.

 

Bofur gave a fake hurt look. “You wound me, Ranka.”

 

Ranka was the name she’d given Bofur when he asked what she was called. “Well then, it’s a good thing you have your drink to take your mind off of it.”

 

“And a beautiful lass to gaze at as well,” he sent her a smile over the rim of his tankard.

 

Nori felt a blush steal over her cheeks. Damn Bofur, giving her all the attention and complements she’d always wanted from him. And damn his cheeky smile, too, for good measure.

 

“Bofur,” Nori started, clenching her hands to stop her nervous shaking, “do you, maybe, want to go somewhere more…” she bit her lip, glancing at Bofur through her lashes, “private?”

 

Bofur stared at her.

 

Nori licked her lips, her heart going overtime in her chest.

 

“Yes,” Bofur sounded breathless but suddenly he was standing, wrapping his hand gently around Nori’s wrist and pulling her to her feet. “I live not too far from here.”

 

Nori knew that, of course, since she would sometimes stay in his seldom used apartment when running from the town guard. She also knew that the place was a fucking mess right now. But Nori still allowed Bofur to lead them down the streets to his front door.  

 

“It-it’s a bit of a mess,” Bofur said, fumbling for his keys. “I wasn’t expecting… company.”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

“Well then, welcome to my—”

 

But Nori didn’t let Bofur finish the thought because she finally did what she had wanted to do for nearly fourty years: she grabbed Bofur by the pigtails and kissed him. It wasn’t a gentle kiss by any means. It was rough and had more teeth than any other kiss Nori had ever shared but it also did something no other kiss had ever done: it lit a fire in her belly.

 

Nori moaned into the kiss, unable to keep from arching into Bofur’s touch. She pushed the jackets from his shoulders, sliding the layers down his arms. She could feel Bofur’s surprisingly deft fingers working at the laces of her dress. Nori felt the moment the lacings gave way, the bodice falling to the floor as her hands worked at Bofur’s belt.

 

Bofur’s lips moved to her neck, nipping and kissing, causing her stomach to flip in need. She shivered, her fingers slipping against the laces on Bofur’s trousers.

 

“Bofur,” Nori whined, finally managing to get her hand down the miner’s pants and grip at his length. Bofur’s moan was like music to her, his stuttering hips like the bellows to the fire raging within her. Some part of Nori resolved then to stop reading Dori’s trashy romance novels.

 

Bofur pulled her away from the wall suddenly, a hand grabbing her ass to lift her as he maneuvered them to the pallet of furs and blankets he called a bed. As always, the bed was surprisingly soft. Nori lifted her hips to allow Bofur to pull the petticoats off her hips. Far sooner than the thief thought possible, she was lying, naked and nearly dripping with want, on her miner’s bed.

 

“You have far too many clothes,” she gave a sharp tug on Bofur’s trousers, dragging them down to his thighs. It was then that she realized Bofur was still wearing that stupid hat she gave him for his one hundred-twentieth birthday. She pushed the hat off easily, her fingers running through Bofur’s fringe.

 

Bofur leaned back, grabbing the hat from the bed and tossing it onto the crate he used as a side table. He shot her his cheeky smile, “That I am.” He stood for a moment, pulling his boots and trousers and underthings off. Bofur waited, completely bare, and stared at her.

 

And Nori stared as well, taking in the way her love looked. Bofur had far more muscles than she thought he would, a dusting of dark hair over his pectorals and abs, trailing all the way down to the thick patch of hair that surrounded his cock. And Mahal above, Bofur’s cock: thick and long and curving towards his belly. And it was framed by a pair of heavy balls and muscular thighs and all Nori wanted to do was bury her face in the V of Bofur’s crotch and just breath.

 

So instead, Nori sat up on her knees and, watching Bofur’s face for any reaction, placed her hands on Bofur’s hips. She pressed a kiss to the crown of the miner’s prick and Bofur’s lashed fluttered, a soot dusted hand coming up to caress Nori’s braids, cupping at the base of her skull. Her tongue swiped out and licked at the bead of precome. It was savory salty and she found herself wanting more of the heady flavor. She swirled her tongue around Bofur’s cockhead and licked around the ridge of flesh where crown met shaft.

 

Above her, Bofur moaned, his fingers tightening and relaxing rhythmically at her nape, the fake name she gave him falling from his lips like a chant. Nori swirled her tongue around the shaft, pulling Bofur in deeper, a hand coming up to fondle at Bofur’s testicles. She sucked harder, trying to take Bofur all the way to the base but Nori had never sucked a cock before and the member hit painfully at the back of her throat.

 

Coughing, Nori murmured a quiet apology.

 

“No need to rush,” the miner offered, rubbing a thumb along her hairy jaw. Bofur gently pushed her back down onto the bed.

 

Nori opened her mouth to say something—anything, but Bofur swept down to kiss her instead. Their tongues slid together. Bofur moved to his knees, his cock now rubbing into the crease of her thigh. The miner’s free hand caressed up her side, petting her ribs and cupping her breasts, his lips kissing down her neck to her sternum. Nori arched off the bed when she felt Bofur’s lips wrap around her nipple, her nails clawing down his back. His hands drifted lower, drawing circles down her sides.

 

“B-Bofur,” Nori bit her lip, trembling like a fucking leaf. All she wanted was for Bofur to bury his big cock into her little pussy. Or maybe a finger. Or a tongue. Something. She needed it. She rolled her hips, trying to catch the head of his dick with her folds but Bofur arched away from her.

 

“Just wait. One minute,” Bofur whispered against her ribs, fingertips trailing into the strawberry hair between her legs.

 

Nori gasped, rocking her hips again, “Give me something, please.”

 

Bofur looked up at her, lips still grazing her stomach. The arse had the nerve to smile at her. He pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to her hip bone, his tongue following the slope of her skin. A shaky moan pulled itself from Nori’s throat, her cunt twitching in anticipation. “Bofur,” Nori whimpered, the miner’s hands squeezing at her thighs, his face close enough that she could feel his breath against her folds. This was such bullshit.

 

Nori growled, “You lazy fucking—” but whatever she would have cursed next was cut off with a gasp as Bofur pushed his tongue into her pussy.

 

Someone made an embarrassingly high pitched moan.

 

Bofur chuckled, “Fuck, you taste good.” Returning his mouth to the thief’s sex, Bofur shifted to play with her cunt with his fingertips, a slow up and down tease. His eyes watched her face for any reaction. “You’re so beautiful,” Bofur buried his face in Nori’s folds, nipping gently at her soft skin.

 

“Bofur, stop being a fucking tease,” Nori ground out, her hands fisting in the furs she was laying on, her hips fucking down on the ghost of the miner’s touch.

 

Bofur hummed. “I will. Just lay back and enjoy yourself,” but even as he said the words, the Dwarrow finally, finally and oh so slowly, slipped a finger into Nori.

 

Nori whined with a roll of her hips, “More—please, Bofur.”

 

“Shhh, love. Relax. I’ve got you.”

 

Bofur pressed damp kisses into Nori’s stomach, his free arm hooking under her and grabbing at her back. He slipped another finger into her tight heat. Gently, Bofur began to curl his fingers, a soft twist in and out. His kisses traveled downwards again till he was mouthing at Nori’s clit, sucking and licking.

 

“Bofur, Bofur, please—I,” Nori flexed her hips onto the miner’s hand, her pace quickening as the fire in her belly condensed, forming a molten spiral of need.

 

“Just like that. That’s it. Come for me, Ranka.”

 

And suddenly Nori was a hot, shuddering mess. Her moans and gasps bouncing off the walls of her love’s apartment, her body quivering and twitching, the feeling more intense than anything she had felt with just her own hand.

 

“Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” Bofur’s hands tightened on her hips as he leaned up, pressing his mouth to hers, sharing her taste with his tongue against Nori’s own.

 

Nori moaned into the kiss, her hips bucking up again, her body still on fire, even after her first orgasm. Her hands slid up Bofur’s arms, caressed across his shoulders and dived into his hair, pulling the strands. Bofur groaned at the touch, hips dropping more firmly onto Nori’s.

 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he buried his face in Nori’s neck. Dick trapped between their bodies, Bofur rocked into the cradle of Nori’s hips.

 

“Bofur,” Nori said, a hint of warning slipping into her tone. “Are you going to fuck me or are you going to rut against me for the rest of the night?”

 

Instead of answering, Bofur giggled. And when Nori heard Bofur’s heady giggle right next to her ear, she suddenly couldn’t wait through anymore of Bofur’s fucking stupid teasing. With a twist of her hips and a well-placed shove, Nori had Bofur sprawled on the furs below her. Bofur was laughing fully now, one fist pressing to his mouth to try to silence the racket. Nori shook her head, hair dancing around her shoulders. With one hand she reached down to spread herself open and with two rocks of her hips she had the head of Bofur’s cock inside.

 

Oh, thank fuck. Finally.

 

Nori shifted her hips again, sinking lower, “Oh, you fucking—Bofur.”

 

And Bofur responded by simply grabbing her hips and fucking up into her, fully sheathing himself in her tight cunt.

 

Nori couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Everything felt… perfect. It felt like everything slowed and sped at once. The drag of Bofur’s cock in and out of her, the delicious stretch of her cunt around his cock, the tingling of his fingers over her thighs, the scratch of her nails down Bofur’s chest, the bite of her teeth at Bofur’s stubbled neck, the sudden elastic-like snap of her orgasm around Bofur’s dick.

 

Bofur flipped them abruptly. He leaned back, fucking into her deep and fast and Nori pulled her legs up to her ribs, trying to give him a better angle. But she could tell by the bite of his teeth on his bottom lip it wasn’t right.

 

“How do you want me?” she breathed.

 

“I,” Bofur lost the next word to a moan. “I—like this,” and he slipped his arms under her legs, leaning back so that she was spread in his lap; his big hands grabbing onto the tops of her thighs near her ass, his strokes getting desperate, his hips stuttering and slapping against her with every thrust.

 

Nori arched her back, feeling a third orgasm begging to crest, her nails digging crescents into Bofur’s muscled thighs.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Bofur. Bofur, fuck,” she lost herself again but this time Bofur followed her over the edge, his thrusts stuttering and quickening, his hands tightening, the fake name spilling from his lips as easily as he spilled his seed inside the thief.

 

Panting, the miner pulled out gently, collapsing onto the furs next to Nori. His fingers traced patterns into the light hair that covered her chest. A lazy smile curled over Bofur’s lips and Nori couldn’t help but press a kiss into the miner’s smile.

 

Nori tangled her legs with Bofur’s, “That was more fun than I thought it would be.”

 

“Couldn’t agree more, love.”

 

Later, when Bofur came for the second time, his face was buried in the back of her neck, teeth clamped around her shoulder, Nori’s ass pressing into the miner’s crotch as he fucked into her from behind. Nori was panting hard, aftershocks still rolling through her, a hand petting the back of Bofur’s neck awkwardly.

 

“I,” she started to say but couldn’t quite find the right words. She tried again, “That was…” again, words left her. Ori would know what to say or how to say it, that little shit. “Fucking hell,” she settled on.

 

Bofur simply chuckled, pulled out slowly, and trailed kisses across Nori’s back. He sat back on the pallet of furs. “You can stay the night if you wish.” He threw an arm behind his head as he laid back, his fringe sweat-stuck to his brow.

 

Nori gave a small laugh of her own from where she lay on the blankets. She wanted to stay, wanted to fall asleep pressed against Bofur and wake with him when the sun rose. Wanted nothing more than that: to sleep curled in the embrace of her beloved.

 

But…

 

“I can’t,” she said, forcing herself to sit up and look around for her clothes. “If I’m not home before sunrise my family will worry. And by ‘worry’ I mean ‘tear the village down looking for me.’” Nori gave him a shallow half smile.

 

Bofur hummed, “Overprotective?”

 

“You could say that,” Nori pulled on her underthings and went about looking for her socks and boots.

 

“Will I see you again?”

 

Nori paused, looking up from her right shoe. “Do you want to?”

 

Bofur nodded, “A’course.” And there was his cheeky smile.

 

Nori rolled her eyes, “If you ever travel south, maybe.” She slipped her other shoe on and then went for her dress, still by the door. Nori ran her fingers through her hair in a bid of a futile attempt to control the messy strands.

 

“I just might.”

 

Nori snorted, “I’ll hold my breath.” She pulled at the lacing on the back of the dress and tied it off, looser than she had previously but previously she had had a Dwarrow to seduce.

 

Bofur was laughing again, reaching for his hat and slipping it back over his hair. “All right, so I might not make it. Don’t hold it against me, ‘ey?” He reached into his bedside crate and pulled out his pipe and a leather pouch of tobacco. He began packing the pipe.

 

“I can think of plenty of things to hold against you instead,” Nori smirked, walking back over the pallet.

 

“Careful now, that’s what started this last round.”

 

Nori nodded and leaned down, pressing her forehead to the furred patch of Bofur’s hat. “Kiss for the road?”

 

Bofur smiled and threaded a hand into the hair behind Nori’s ear. Their lips pressed together gently, tongues meeting. Nori pulled away before the embers in her belly could become a fire again.

 

“Goodbye, Bofur. Maybe I’ll see you again.”

 

“Hmm, hopefully,” a quick brushing of lips and then, “Goodbye, m’lady.”

 

“Goodbye,” Nori whispered and then, silent as a shadow, was out the door before she could slip back into bed with the one she loved.

 

One night was enough, Nori promised herself on the walk home. One night of Bofur loving her how she wanted him to would do. She would carry the memories and ghosts of kisses through the upcoming months with her. Carry them close to her heart as she traveled into danger, battles, and a dragon’s den.

 

*

 

Ori wished she was asleep but rest eluded her. They were leaving in two days to start their journey and Ori was excited. She wanted to travel and see the world beyond Ered Luin. And, more than anything, she wanted to write about it. The fact that it would also be the most time she spent with Dwalin had nothing to do with it. At all. Nope. Also not the reason she was awake at this time of morning, distracting herself with a book. Because she was in no way hoping the older warrior would fall in love with her through her daring and bravery on the journey.

 

Oh, Mahal.

 

She was hopeless.

 

Ori buried her face in her book. This was getting ridiculous. She was just glad that Dori had moved into her own room after she’d come of age. Dori said Ori’s work that took her into the late hours of the night were keeping her up. But Ori didn’t miss that her old teacher, Balin, was still coming around almost daily even though her apprenticeship ended nearly seven years ago.

 

That, she thought, was cute. Dori deserved someone who made her smile so much. But, even though Balin and Dori had been sweet on each other for years, she’d only just seen the courting beads braided into Dori’s hair and Balin’s beard recently. Within the last year, probably. She’d asked Dori about once and Dori had blushed so darkly that Ori wondered if rosy cheeks were just a family trait. Dori had simply stated that they were courting and the rest was none of Ori’s business. Which was just frustrating.

 

Ori ran a hand through her hair, messing the fringe she’d let Dori cut into her red locks soon after her seventieth birthday because her hair kept falling into her ink. The rest she kept braided in a single braid down her back, also to keep it out of the way. She thought she looked quite silly and wanted Nori to cut her hair next but Nori would simply laugh and disappear every time she asked it to be trimmed. Dwalin probably thought she looked ridiculous.

 

Mahal.

 

The door to the bedroom opened suddenly and Ori jumped, scrambling to hide her book under her pillow. Her heart pounded: Dori hated it when she read instead of slept and this close to the beginning of their quest she’d get an earful. But it wasn’t Dori who came through the door and fell into bed next to Ori, it was Nori.

 

At least, Ori thought it was Nori. Because whoever this was, they were wearing a dress and the last time Nori had worn a dress was… Well, Ori couldn’t actually remember.

 

Ori’s hand drifted under her other pillow for the blade her sister made her keep there. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt. “Nori?”

 

The giggling form in the dress lifted its head and shot her a wide smile. “Hello, little Ori.”

 

“Nori! What in the world are you wearing?”

 

“A dress!” Nori smiled brightly.

 

“I can see that,” Ori pulled at the brown fabric, “but why?”

 

Nori stared at her sister a moment. The older ‘dam pulled one of the pillows of the bed to her chest. “Do you remember my plan? The one I told you about? With Bofur?”

 

It honestly took Ori a minute to recall but when she did she grabbed her own pillow and hit Nori in the chest with it.

 

“You—!” she hit her sister again, “you imbecile! How dare you! You risked us all! Dori—!” But she cut herself off, eyes going impossibly wide. “Dori must never know!” she hissed, grabbing Nori by the shoulders. “She will surely kill Bofur. Oh, Mahal. She’d kill you, too. Oh, Mahal! She’ll kill me just for knowing!”

 

Nori was laughing.

 

“I’m serious, namad! Dori’s going to kill us all. It’s the end. This is the end. I’ll have to say my goodbyes tomorrow. Dwalin will—We’ll have to tell Thorin we can’t go. Fili and Kili will be so bored. I—”

 

“Dori won’t kill us, Ori!” Nori finally stopped laughing and sat up, gripping her sister’s face to calm her. “Dori will never know. Neither will Bofur. He had no idea it was me—”

 

“That doesn’t make it better! That just means you took advantage of him!”

 

“Ori,” Nori pulled her sister into a hug, “it’s fine. It was the one time. It will never happen again. You needn’t worry. I’m never wearing a dress again and Bofur will never be the wiser. All right? Everything’s okay. As long as you don’t tell Dori, she will never know.” Nori pet Ori’s hair to calm her. “Everything will be fine.”

 

Ori didn’t say anything, content to be comforted for a moment. Suddenly, a question bloomed in her mind, an embarrassing, pressing question that burned to be asked.

 

“Nori,” Ori paused to collect herself. She stared at her nails. She fidgeted with a loose string on the bedspread. Ori looked everywhere but at her sister. “What… what was it like?”

 

Nori laughed again. “Like nothing else in the world.”

 

Ori opened her mouth to tell her sister that that was copout of an answer but Nori cut her off.

 

“Sleep now, Ori. Plenty of time for questions later,” and Nori stood to pull the dress off and bathe before returning to bed, her sister already asleep by then.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this just succeeded in reminding me how hard sex scenes are to write....
> 
> also, if you want, you can find me on tumblr as eudoxiav. challaaaaa.


	4. Four

*

 

Nori grasped the handle of the door tightly. Her hair was back in its three-point bouffant, beard in its matching three braids. Her voice would be pitched deep again when she next spoke. And her breasts were tied down. Not to mention the trousers were trying to ride up her ass. It did nothing to help the ache the previous night left between her legs.

 

She gave the handle a sharp tug back and jerk to the left and the door popped open. Fucking Bofur. She told him to fix the broken fucking latch.

 

“Bofur!” she yelled, “Ya need to fix your bloody door!” She stalked through the room and kicked at the pallet and furs Bofur lay on.

 

The Dwarrow groaned, reaching up to pull his hat over his eyes.

 

“It’s far too early, Nori,” he whined. “No locksmiths will be open.”

 

Nori snorted, “Of course! I should have thought of that!” Nori smacked herself on the forehead. “Oh, wait, except I’ve told you near a thousand times _already_.” She walked around the pallet to the window and flung the curtains open. “Anyway, com’on. You said you’d help Dori close up shoppe today. If he’s gonna wake me at cock-o-clock in the morning, you’re joining me.”

 

The miner made a keening noise in the back of his throat. “Why is Dori closin’ shoppe? He loves the place.” Bofur pulled the furs over his head, curling into a ball. “And I’m hungoveeeeeer, close the bliiiiiiinds.”

 

“Not my fault,” Nori grabbed the end of the fur blanket and yanked it off. She couldn’t tell if she was relieved or disappointed that Bofur had put on pants before passing out. “And I told you why a week ago. We’re going with Thorin on his quest for Erebor.”

 

“…What?” Bofur sat up suddenly, his hat flying off his head to the edge of the pallet. “I thought you were stayin’! You didn’t say you were goin’ last week.”  


Nori eyes widened, her eyebrows trying to reach her hair. Had she really left that many love bites? And scratch marks? And general debauchery all over Bofur? Hmm, good.

 

Nori tried to wipe the smirk off her face before Bofur noticed. Rolling her eyes, she said, “I’m rather sure I mentioned it. Now com’on, get dressed.”

 

Bofur muttered a few curses under his breath, rolled over, and plopped his reclaimed hat onto his face.

 

Nori stared. And then she rolled her eyes again. And then she walked to the little kitchenette, stoked the fire up, and put on the tea kettle to boil for coffee.

 

After what seemed a few minutes, she finally heard Bofur mutter, “Do I have to?”

 

“Sure do,” she answered. “I’ll treat you to breakfast even.”

 

Bofur muttered several more curses but he also finally stood from his pallet and made his way to the loo.

 

While he was busy doing whatever, Nori poured the now boiling water over the coffee grounds she’d placed in the only two unbroken mugs. She then spooned an ungodly amount of sugar into Bofur’s and was stirring it around when she heard the loo door open again.

 

Nori turned, holding out Bofur’s mug. He took the mug gratefully, wrapping his fingers around the hot ceramic. Nori eyed the purple hickey on Bofur’s neck. “Looks like you had fun last night,” she raised her own mug to her lips.

 

“Oh, aye.” Bofur chuckled into his coffee while walking back to his bed. “Wonderful lass. Moving south though.” The miner moved to snatch up a few pieces of clothing. “Think I was her first.”

 

 

Nori made a noncommittal grunt. “Better hurry,” she said instead, “Dori’ll be mad enough as it is.”

 

Bofur pouted over his shoulder, “I still get breakfast, though, right?”

 

Nori snorted and shook her head. “If ya hurry.”

 

The last time Nori had seen Bofur dress that quickly was when he was being chased by a ‘dam’s fiancé. (In Bofur’s defense, it was an arranged marriage.)

 

*

 

By the time they arrived at the Leafy Lady Dori was in a right state, huffing about the loose leafs or snapping about recipe books. Balin was there, of course, trying to calm her down but it didn’t seem to help much, especially when Fili or Kili would misplace (or break) one thing or another. The two claimed they were trying to help but, really, Dori just wanted to hit them both with the wrong end of a broom.

 

“Nori!” the oldest sister called when the thief finally arrived. “Thank Mahal! You’re here! Go help Fili and Kili sort the kitchens out. Bofur, you can help Ori and Dwalin with the books. Ori’ll explain the system he’s worked out. Balin! Stop smelling the teas and _sort_ them!”

 

Nori laughed as she disappeared into the kitchen. Bofur watched her go for a moment before making his way over to Ori.

 

“So, what’cha got?” Bofur crouched down next to where the red head was sitting cross-legged on the floor.

 

The scribe looked up at Bofur’s smile and tried to find any sign that her sister had been found out. Finding none, Ori happily explained how the organization went, pointing at stacks of books and explaining the several piles she had built around herself. Any questions Bofur had about the books, Ori easily answered and soon they were all working in a comfortable silence.

 

“Where’s Thorin, ‘ey?”

 

Ori glanced up at Bofur to see him staring at Dwalin expectantly.

 

“Gone ahead to meet with kin. We’ll regroup in the Shire, whatever that is. Gandalf says he’s found a burglar there looking for work,” Dwalin grunted, tossing a ‘How to Brew’ book into a pile.

 

Ori couldn’t help the indignant squeak that escaped her at the rough treatment of the bound papers.

 

Dwalin simply looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, a small smirk starting to play across his face.

 

Ori could feel her face heating as she glared but she forced herself to go back to her own sorting. It was an accident anyway, Dwalin handling the book so roughly.

 

“So you all are leavin’ soon?”

 

“Aye.”

 

“How many have joined?”

 

“All you see here,” Dwalin reached for another book, stared at it, and chucked it in a pile.

 

Ori squeaked like a damned field mouse this time. She glared at Dwalin. That one, he’d done on purpose.

 

Dwalin chuckled, “My cousins Oin and Gloin are joining as well.”

 

Bofur hummed, staring at a copy of “Brewing for Beginners”, and aimed for offhand, “Too late to tag along?”

 

Dwalin made a noise in the back of his throat, “If yer up for it. It’s just a dragon after all.”

 

“Honestly, dragons hadn’t crossed me mind.”

 

Later, Bofur would say that he joined the quest for the free ale and adventure. But Ori, having watched her sister and the miner interact for years, knew it was solely because Nori was going, and Bofur would follow the ‘dam to the end of Arda and back.

 

*

 

Dori was fretting over _both_ her sisters this time. It was unusual but not something she’d never done before. It was their last night in Ered Luin and she was looking over all the things that they were going to pack along. Nori’s knives, Ori’s ink bottles, several blank journals for writing, three different whetstones, yarn and knitting nettles, dice, playing cards, a long handled mace, a sling shot.

 

By Mahal’s grace, they were going to die.

 

“Ori, a sling shot?” Dori felt so nervous she wanted to vomit.

 

Ori ran a hand through her hair. Giving a huff, she said, “Nori’s given me three different knives to use, and she’s making me take the two she already gave me before.”

 

After reminding herself to breathe and trying to unclench her fists, Dori said, “A sling shot and some _knives_! Close range weapons, Ori! You don’t know how to fight beyond the basics! You cannot go on this quest! You’ll stay here with Dis.”

 

Ori shrieked, “Like hell I am staying here! You two are going! I’m going, too! And who knows what will happen to me if I stay here all alone!”

 

“That—!” was a low blow but before Dori could say anymore she was cut off.

 

“And who’s to say I won’t just follow you along anyway!” Ori yelled, “I am _not_ a child! And I _am_ going on this quest!”

 

Dori opened her mouth and was again cut off by Ori.

 

“And it was you who said a scribe would never have reason to learn to fight!”

 

Dori wanted to retort that she was just trying to protect her sister but the words failed her. Instead, she pushed her fingers against her temples and tried to massage the headache away. She needed some tea. Preferably chamomile. She opened her eyes and looked at Ori’s red-angry face.

 

Dori figured she could either stay angry, have a fight, a headache, _and_ a furious sister, or she could just go with the headache. Eventually, her shoulder’s fell.

 

“Okay,” the eldest said weakly.

 

Ori shrieked again, jumping up and hugging the now completely grey haired Dwarrowdam.

 

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! This is terrific! Nori! Nori, I get to go! Dee-dee”s letting me go!” Ori launched herself over the supplies laid out on the edge of the bed and hugged her other sister who, till now, was simply watching the argument.

 

“I noticed,” Nori laughed. “You seem excited.”

 

“Eeee! Of course! I get to go on a quest with you two! This will be great!”

 

And Dori wondered if that was why Ori wanted to go at all, so she could spend the time with her older sisters who were always just a bit too busy for her. Dori wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to cry.

 

By Mahal’s _grace_! She was crying. Damn it all.

 

A sudden knock came from the door, causing all sisters to jump.

 

“Are you all finished packing?” It was Fili, which always meant—

 

“You are taking forever! Mother won’t feed us till everyone is at the table.” —Kili was near.

 

“We’ll be there in a—”

 

But Ori wrenched the door open. “We just needa pack our things together. Who all is here?”

 

Because the entire company was meeting at Thorin’s hall, sitting for supper, and then leaving at first light for the Shire to negotiate with their burglar. And, to the three sisters knowledge, only Oin and Gloin had shown so far.

 

“Bofur, Bombur, and their cousin Bifur are here. As well as Balin. Come on! You can finish packing laaaateeeer!” Kili tugged on Ori’s sleeve urgently.

 

Fili grabbed her other sleeve, “Weeee’re hungryyyyyyy!” he whined.

 

And the two young princes dragged Ori to dinner, Dori and Nori following after. They could pack after dinner, anyway, Dori figured.

 

Everyone the two boys mentioned was sitting around the table (plus Oin and Gloin), chatting and laughing.

 

Dis smiled, “Good, we’re all here. Let’s get started! Sit, sit!”

 

Balin had saved Dori a seat to his left. She greeted her intended with a quick kiss to his cheek.

 

“Where’s Dwalin?”

 

Dori almost missed the question it was so quiet. She wondered, briefly, why Ori would care. But then Balin was speaking.

 

“He left a few days ago, after we finished at the Leafy Lady. He’s going to scout the route ahead.”

 

“Oh,” Ori seemed to deflate. “Okay.”

 

Dori was a bit put out, too, actually. She’d wanted to talk to Dwalin about training her littlest sister, even if they would be journeying most of the time. A little more combat training could never hurt, in the long run. But now the warrior was gone and she’d have to ask later.

 

Dis ended up herding them all to bed early, yelling; “You have to wake before the sun! Go to bed or you won’t get any breakfast!”

 

Dori helped her sisters pack quickly and shuffled the two into bed.

 

“Goodnight, my namadîth, may you both sleep well. I will see you again in the morning,” Dori pressed a kiss to both sisters’ brows and then shuffled off to her own room.

 

She met Balin in the hallway. Dori smirked, “You should be in your own room. I know you have one.”

 

Balin returned the smile but said, “I have something I wish to speak to you about.”

 

Dori opened her door and gestured Balin to follow her. She closed the door quietly and listened for any sound. Upon finding none, she turned to face her guest.

 

Balin looked… worried. It was a look Dori hadn’t seen on the dwarf’s face often.

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, stepping forward and placing a hand on Balin’s arm.

 

The older dwarf took a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you about the quest. About a… a murkhûn,” Balin quieted.

 

Dori did quite know what to think. She was far too busy being flattered. A murkhûn was a serious subject. It literally meant ‘shield-man’, but, in its obscurity, meant far more than that. Dwarrow treasured their ‘dams and almost never allowed them to travel. But in the instances when they did find need to travel, they would pose as males and have a murkhûn (or sometimes simply referred to as a ‘shield’). The murkhûn’s roll was a simple but important one; they would protect the ‘dam at all costs. Protect them by life, knife, or body. The murkhûn wasn’t allowed to be a blood relative, except in extreme cases. Typically, it was a husband or a betrothed. Occasionally, it would be a friend but very rarely. The murkhûn would also usually lend a weapon to the ‘dam they were protecting, either a knife, a dagger, or a light axe. Something a ‘dam with little training could easily wield.

 

Truthfully, it bothered Dori that Nori and Ori wouldn’t have murkhûnh but they were considered ghùrira, which literally meant ‘shelter’ but when applied to a person meant they were hiding, or _sheltering_ their true gender. Sometimes it was Dwarrow going as ‘dams or, like with Nori and Ori, ‘dams hiding as Dwarrow. But it wasn’t a deception for the purpose of travel. It was usually a life style choice, one that was respected and not pried into. It was perhaps the only case where ‘dams could travel without murkhûnh. And thankfully, for Dori, her sisters were ghùrâr.

 

Dori was dragged back into herself when Balin moved, drawing from his pocket a cloth wrapped object. He unwound the cloth slowly, revealing an ornately carved silver dagger with garnet inlays.

 

“Would-would you do me the honor, Dori, daughter of Rina, of allowing me to be your murkhûn?” Balin asked gently.

 

Dori blinked at the blade, then, very so slowly, she placed her hand over the dagger. She could feel the heat of Balin’s hand through the cloth, and she leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to her love’s lips. “Of course, you big lump. Did you think I would say no?”

 

Balin laughed, raising a hand to the base of Dori’s neck to draw her in for another kiss. “I feared you would only agree out of a sense of obligation.”

 

Dori rolled her eyes affectionately, “I have agreed because I love you.”

 

The smile that split Balin’s face was blinding. He rubbed his thumb over the soft skin of her neck. “Do you think you could ever do me the honor of marrying me? One of these days? Someday soon?”

 

Dori stilled. “Really? You mean that?”

 

“With all my heart.”

 

Dori’s hug toppled Balin onto the bed. “Of course!” she pressed kisses all over Balin’s face and the scholar let out a laugh that was more giggle than anything.

 

By Mahal’s grace, she was the happiest ‘dam in all of Arda.

 

When morning rose, Dori awoke in Balin’s arms with a smile on her face and a new bead in her hair.

 

The funny thing was, the only one who seemed to notice was Ori and she simply tipped her head to the side, smiled, and offered a whispered congratulations.

 

*

 

Nori was going to be fucking sick fucking everywhere. Fucking. Everywhere. Who the shit thought that a _boat_ would be a good idea to get from Ered Luin to the Shire? Probably Thorin. That stupid… _elf lover_. Taking the river was the fasted path south but, Mahal, a boat? And then a week and a half walk’s to the Shire? Nori’s stomach rolled again, heaving over the side.

 

A hand rubbed over Nori’s back soothingly. “Are you okay? You think you can stand and come back to bed?”

 

Nori shook her head, “Not yet, little Ori. Go rest, I’ll be back once my stomach has settled.” The thief went back to resting her head against the railing of the boat. In fact, she’d just sit on the deck instead. That felt tonnes better. At least her stomach didn’t feel like it was about rip itself out of her body and jump over the edge of the boat.

 

“It’s fine. I’m not tired. And we only have two more weeks on the boat. We’re halfway to port now. And then we’ll be back on solid land and your sea sickness will be gone.”

 

Nori rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Ori, for reminding me I have two more weeks of this shit.” And then a week and half to the Shire. Shit. “Ori, will you carry me if I cannot stand?”

 

Ori laughed and tugged on one of Nori’s braids. “You know I would carry you to the end of Arda, Nori. But for now, I will carry back to our room. Ready?”

 

But Nori shook her head. “Just a little longer. The breeze feels nice.”

 

“Alright.”

 

And so they both sat there, leaning against the railing, breathing the fresh, cool air, watching the stars, or staring at the far off banks of the River Lune. Eventually, Nori drifted off to sleep, snoring gently, and Ori grabbed her arm, maneuvering till Nori rested against her back and the younger dwarf stood, carrying her sister back to their shared room. Ori gently pulled Nori’s boots from her feet and tucked the older ‘dam into bed. She pressed a kiss to Nori’s forehead and then gently closed the door, heading back out to gather the books she left at the railing.

 

So focused on the dark wood and gloomy night (and not falling flat on her face), Ori didn’t notice the Dwarrow standing at the railing till he spoke.

 

“Is Nori alright?”

 

Ori shrieked. And then muttered a litany of curses under her breath as Bofur laughed.

 

“Sorry, sorry. Thought you saw me,” the miner blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

 

Growling, Ori snatched her books and journal from the deck. “Well, I didn’t,” she snapped, but just as quickly the anger left her, replaced by an embarrassed blush. Ori rubbed a hand against her forehead, trying to stave off a headache.

 

“Nori’s fine,” she admitted. “Just sea sick. We’ve never been on a boat before.”

 

Bofur hummed and turned back to the river, leaning against the railing. “We were all a bit sick the first couple days, but Nori still is. You sure it’s not somethin’ else?”

 

Ori shrugged, immediately panicking inside, but she tried to push her worries far away. “No… I mean,” Ori toyed with a loose string on her arm warmer. “He doesn’t have a fever or chills and he doesn’t get sick easily. It’s just the river.”

 

Bofur nodded, taking another drag on his pipe. “Yeah. That sure is true. He’s been sick, what? A handful of times in all the years I’ve known you lot?”

 

“Yeah, just…” Ori trailed off, thinking about her two uncles that succumbed to illness. Nori wasn’t that sick, and it certainly wouldn’t happen that fast. Dori said that when Mama spoke of her brothers’ illnesses it was slow progress, eating away at the body slowly, from the inside out, hard lumps and bleeding and… and…

 

“Shit,” Bofur snapped his teeth around his pipe and immediately pulled Ori into a tight hug. “Don’t cry, Ori. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I forgot about your Uncles. Shit. Nori’s fine. I’m sure it’s not that bad. Dumbass just doesn’t have any sea legs. He’ll be fine once we get to some solid land, you’ll see.”

 

Ori nodded and pushed out of Bofur’s embrace. She scrubbed at her eyes fiercely. “I know, I know,” she reassured. “Nori’s just always the first to go without and he’s not nearly as strong as he thinks he is. I’m going to go check on him. Ghelekhe lomil, Bofur.”

 

“Good night, Ori. Tell Nori… ya know what? Nevermind. That ass can get better first.”

 

Ori just nodded and left to return to her cabin.

 

Nori was still asleep, resting on her side, breath deep and even, and Ori watched it for a moment before deciding worrying would do her no good. The youngest dwarf stripped down and crawled into the bed behind her sister, wrapping her arms around Nori’s slender waist and burying her face between her sister’s shoulder blades.

 

If Ori shook till she fell asleep, well, she figured, at least no one was awake to see her.

 

*

 

They disembark, finally, at a port in a small town about a hundred miles north of the Grey Havens. Nori is so overjoyed she flings herself into the nearby grass and lays there while the other dwarves gather their supplies and ask where they can purchase fourteen ponies. No one blames her for shirking her duties, though, because all of them watched as the smell and motion of the river made her vomit repeatedly over the side of the boat.

 

Dori, of course, comes over immediately to mother her.

 

“I’m fine, Dori. I promise. Just beyond happy to be on something that _isn’t_ constantly moving beneath my feet.”

 

But Dori still risks getting her hands slapped to reach down and feel Nori’s brow for a fever.

 

Ori is there as well, pulling her sister to her feet after Dori is assured nothing is terribly wrong, as they begin their march into town.

 

Once they arrive in the town proper, Ori immediately ducks into the book store, heading toward the section under the sign that says “Healing”. Ori riffles through most of the books but the majority is about the big folk; men and elves. Of all the ones Ori can reach, two are the same copy of a book about hobbits and only one is about dwarves. It’s in common tongue and the author has a very manish sounding name. Thumbing through it, Ori doubts it will have anything of real value in it. And beyond that, she doesn’t have the money for it. So instead, she shoves the flimsy thing down the front of her trousers and fixes her tunic and sweaters over the top of it till it all blends together.

 

When Ori leaves, she buys two charcoal sticks to try to make herself feel better.

 

It doesn’t help.

 

*

 

They meet with Gandalf the morning of the twenty sixth of April. He warns them not to arrive all at once because it could overwhelm the hobbit. So they wait till the sun is starting to set and then send Balin first. The Dwarrow gives Dori a kiss to the cheek and a quick good bye and leaves it to them to figure out who will be sent next.

 

Dori thinks it should be Gloin and Oin, or maybe Bofur, Bombur, and Bifur.

 

Nori wants to go next, with Bofur and Ori.

 

Fili and Kili want to go.

 

Oin is still trying to find out what Gandalf said in the first place.

 

Ori is sitting on a log, rubbing at her temples as the argument breaks out around her, so it takes her a minute to realize Fili and Kili have disappeared.

 

Oh, Mahal.

 

“Guys?” she asks, standing slowly and looking around the clearing. “Guys?!” But no one is listening so she hits Nori over the head with her journal.

 

“Oi! What was that for?”

 

Meekly, she says, “Fili and Kili have gone already. They’ve snuck off.”

 

It’s very quickly decided that they would all leave immediately.

 

*

 

Bilbo stared at the pile of dwarves in his entry way. Yavanna, this was getting ridiculous. He already had _four_ of the hairy beings running amok in his house, why did he need… five, six, seven, eight… _eight more_? All he wanted to do was kick them out, yell at them, fume for a day or two, and _then_ meet them and figure out why there were in his house. Perhaps if Gandalf the _bloody_ Grey had _warned_ him, he wouldn’t be so out of sorts. But no! Gandalf hadn’t said a damned thing! And… and… _Dwarves_!In his _kitchen_! Emptying out his _larder_!

 

But…

 

Still…

 

 _Dwarves_!

 

In his kitchen!

 

A small Tookish part of him was beside himself with excitement.

 

That was, until Thorin, King Asshole Under the Mountain, called him a _grocer_! Of all the things! Insulting your _host_!

 

And calling him a _grocer_!

 

Stupid… Gorgeous… Arse… With his pretty blue eyes and sharp nose and long hair and his beard and…

 

And _really_! A grocer? No grocer had his skills at conkers! And he had been a right terror as a tween with darts.

 

And! _And_! Apparently there was also a _dragon_ involved! A great bloody ‘ _furnace with wings_ ’!

 

Very helpful, Mister Dwarf-with-Funny-Hat. Very helpful indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> namadîth: little sisters (lit. sisters that are young)  
> murkhûn: shield-man  
> murkhûnh: shield-men  
> ghùrira: shelter  
> ghùrâr: shelters  
> Ghelekhe: good of good  
> lomil: night  
> (ie; "Ghelekhe lomil" is something like "good night" or "best night")

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you want more!
> 
> (You can find me on tumblr as eudoxiav)


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